Ali Akbar, a 73-year-old newspaper vendor in Paris, has been honored with knighthood by French President Emmanuel Macron. Akbar, who has been selling newspapers in the Latin Quarter for over 50 years, is believed to be the last remaining newspaper vendor in the French capital. His daily rounds on a secondhand bicycle have made him a familiar figure in the cafés of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, where he is known for his signature catchphrase, 'Ça y est!' (That's it!).
Akbar's journey began in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, where he was born into poverty. His dream was to build his mother a house, and at 18, he left home to pursue a better life abroad. He worked hard, cleaning floors on a ship in Greece and learning Greek, before settling in the Netherlands and Rouen, France. It was in Paris in 1973 that he started selling newspapers, initially with an Argentinian friend in the Latin Quarter.
One of the first titles he sold was a satirical weekly, which shocked him with its raunchy cartoons and irreverence toward French politicians. He soon expanded to mainstream dailies and grew to love the work, barely thinking twice about 18-hour days. Despite the hardships, including periods of homelessness, he fulfilled his dream of building his mother a house and has continued to earn a modest living selling papers.
Akbar's medal comes with a quiet footnote: he is believed to be the last newspaper hawker left in Paris. The job, once common on street corners across the city, has almost vanished due to the internet and the collapse of print journalism sales. In a city that now gets most of its headlines on phones, Akbar still delivers them by hand.
Akbar's honor is not just about his dedication to his work but also about the impact he has had on the community. He has given his customers a chance for daily human connection, and his medal has healed old wounds for his family. Akbar remains grateful to France for the opportunities he has been given, but he is not afraid to acknowledge the hardships he has faced. His memoir, 'I Make the World Laugh, but the World Makes Me Cry,' hints at the complexities beneath the jubilant image that has made him famous.
